‘There were the Comte and Comtesse de St Erme. "A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. She would take the items with her; bury the items and her bloodstained clothes in one of the many sinkholes in the huge landfill/garbage dump on the south side of town. “But it makes me feel inhuman,” he added. Still no sound. She heard his voice screaming her name into the twilight as she fled, his cries trailing like banners, weaving through the breeze that had begun to gently stir the dew on the ground.
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